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Grace, mercy, and peace to you from God our Father, and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.

Some time in your past, you’ve probably had the following discussion. It might’ve been just with a friend or two, or maybe it was a game you played at a party. Maybe it was an activity you did at a team-building event at work or school. The situation begins something like this: “If you were stranded on an island, what five things would you want to have with you?”

It’s pretty easy to ruin the challenge of that discussion by coming up with obvious answers like: A ship with full fuel tanks, a year’s supply of food and water, a radio, a map, and a compass. Usually, though, the ground rules are set so that you aren’t allowed to have the resources that would actually get you off the island.

So, if you’re a fan of Survivor, or Lost, or even if you’re old enough to remember when Gilligan’s Island was filmed in black and white, it’s something you can have fun with.

One of the questions that is often a part of this game is: “If you could only have one book with you, what would that book be?” Some people might say a guide to the plants and animals of the island, or a survival manual. Others may choose a first aid book. You could even push the edge of the rules and say: “I’d like a book on how to build a boat.”

Most people, however, respond that they’d want a book they have found meaningful in their lives. It might be a great novel. An inspiring biography. A classic volume of beautiful poetry. Most of the time, but not always, those who consider themselves Christians will say, “I would want to have the Bible.”

Good answer, obviously. In any and all situations, and especially when we find ourselves in difficulty, God’s Word is where we should turn for answers. It is there—in the inspired writings of the prophets, apostles, and evangelists—that we find truth, hope, and inspiration. There we find warnings, encouragement, and practical guidance for living. Most important, however, is the fact that it is there that we find God. Not just information about God. Not just a history of God’s creative work and His interaction with His creation and with humanity. Not just God’s ideas and expectations and promises. God Himself is there.

Here’s another challenging question for you: If you had to choose only one book of the Bible’s 66, which one would you have with you on that island? Some might say the Psalms, filled with lovely, poetic prayers and songs. The hope and confidence in God which is expressed there, even in the face of the many difficulties which confront the authors, is certainly inspiring.

Some might choose the book of Revelation, where St. John lays out the vision he had been granted of the glories of heaven. Martin Luther might choose Galatians, where hope in Christ is given so clearly that Luther sometimes referred to the book as “my dear Katie” in reference to the fondness he had toward his beloved wife, Katarina.

I think that if I were forced to choose just one of the Bible’s books, I’d go with St. Luke’s Gospel account. I’m not just saying that because it’s convenient to come up with that answer today, as we are observing the Feast of St. Luke, the Evangelist. I’ve actually thought that for quite some time. The reason it’s one of my favorites is simple. Luke lays it out in his introductory verses. He writes of the importance of having an accurate and reliable record of the fulfillment of God’s promises. He assures his reader that he has carefully investigated the events about which he has written.

He tells Theophilus, the recipient of his document, that he has written an orderly account so that Theophilus can know the certainty of the things he has been taught about the salvation God provides us in Jesus Christ.

Luke also writes in a very detailed style, giving us insight into things that Gentile need to know in order to understand how God worked through the people of Israel to reveal Himself and to establish the framework in which the Messiah would come. A major part of Luke’s purpose is to demonstrate that Jesus is not simply the Savior of the Jews, but the Savior of the whole world. So, it’s not just Luke’s approach to research or his eloquent style that I find attractive about his Gospel account. More importantly, God’s message reaches me through Luke’s words, giving me great comfort that I, too, am among the redeemed and that I am assured of the forgiveness of my sins and of eternal life through faith in Jesus.

My fondness for Luke’s gospel is one of the reasons that the first sentence in verse 11 from our Epistle lesson for today struck me so powerfully. By itself, it doesn’t sound like much more than a simple statement that Paul is making in his letter to his young protégé, Timothy: “Luke alone is with me.”

No great confession of faith there. No powerful prophecy of what would happen in the future. No fiery call to repentance. No profound doctrine or spell-binding revelation of the wonders of God or His works. Just a fact: “Luke alone is with me.”

That sentence is pretty much what reminded me of my fondness of Luke’s gospel account, and led to my discussion of just what you might want or do if you had to choose what book or what book of the Bible you would have if you were stranded, all alone. And make no mistake: You are all alone, and when it comes right down to it, all that stands between you and eternal isolation, torment, and despair is that Bible.

Holy Scripture is your only hope, your only rescue, because it is there that God has chosen to reveal Himself to you. To give Himself to you. To tell you who He is, what He does, and sometimes—but not always—why He does it. God is in that book, that book that too often sits dusty, unopened, unused, unexplored, uncontemplated. He’s there, just as sure and certain as He is in the waters of Baptism and the bread and wine of His Supper.

Don’t misunderstand me, please: I’m not saying that having a physical Bible around is your guarantee of God’s presence in your life. The Bible isn’t a lucky charm or talisman you can carry around with you under your arm or in your purse to ward off danger and evil. You can’t hope that having it in close proximity to you on the shelf in your den or on the nightstand of your bedroom will allow you to absorb the goodness and holiness of God’s Word.

That would be much like a foolish student who puts his math or science book under his pillow in a hopeless attempt to absorb some of the knowledge in it for tomorrow’s big test.

And certainly don’t think that just having your Bible out on display where others can see it—on your desk at work or school, or on your coffee table at home—makes you a better Christian or some sort of valiant witness for the faith just because one of your co-workers or friends might see it there.

God is in the Scriptures, it’s true. That is where He is revealed to you and to me. That is where He begins the process of bringing you to recognize your sin, to realize your need of rescue from it, and to admit your inability to make that rescue happen by anything within yourself. For your real predicament is not that you’re stranded on an uninhabited island in the middle of the ocean.

Your real problem is that you’re stranded on the island of yourself—a lifeless, sin-infested corpse floating in the degrading cesspool of a sinful world. You can drift on the surface; you can even sink down into its depths. But you have no ability to move yourself toward God, and certainly not to bring the breath of life back into your lungs. Inspiration always requires an external source, or else it would be expiration, would it not? To think otherwise is sheer arrogance. You are dead in your trespasses. Repent!

Taken by itself, Paul’s statement that “Luke alone is with me” is rather empty of much meaning. It’s only when we pull back and let the camera take in the surrounding text of this lesson that we begin to see just what that means. Paul is in prison. He is chained like a common criminal and knows that he is nearing the end of his own earthly journey.

Just prior to this text, he has given Timothy a solemn charge to preach the Word of God in all its truth and purity, and warned him that there will be times when people won’t want to hear that Word, but instead will want to hear pleasing, easy, comfortable things rather than the things of God that are difficult to confront, hard to accept, or impossible to fully understand.

As this text begins, Paul tells Timothy to stay patient and to keep his wits about him, in spite of the challenges and difficulties his life in Christ will bring. Timothy is to perform his duty—not against all odds, but against all worlds. Paul warns that his own time is short, and wants to ensure that the message of the gospel does not die with his generation. Paul is confident that the Lord has enabled him to complete his own journey, and that he has kept the faith.

Indeed, Paul has. He has not only kept his own trust in the salvation given through Christ alone. He has also kept the message of the Gospel pure and unadulterated as it had been given to him both by the written Word of God—the Scriptures—and by the Word made flesh—by Jesus Himself. On account of his faithfulness, Paul expresses his confidence that he and all who long for the return of Christ will receive righteousness at the final judgment.

Even so, Paul has been deserted by some, opposed by others, and left behind by several whom he has sent to far-flung places to carry out the work of God. Yet, as he recounts to Timothy the fact that no one stepped forward at his hearing to support him, he grants forgiveness and asks that even his fickle friends not be held accountable for their absence. Paul knows that the Lord was present for him, strengthening his resolve and enabling him to proclaim the Good News of Christ to everyone he encounters.

Paul finds himself with no earthly support but Luke alone, but he has everything he needs. God will deliver him; God will rescue him both from his isolation and his legal trouble, because Paul has been granted the faith which saves—faith that comes from hearing the Word of God. Paul may be without physical human company but for the presence of Luke, but Paul is most certainly not alone.

And neither are you alone, whether you’re feeling isolated in a vast crowd of humanity or pining away by yourself, feeling no love or tangible comfort of friends or family. Luke is with you, and you are not alone. Mark and Paul and Timothy are with you, too. Isaiah and Jeremiah; Moses and David. Angels and archangels and all the host of heaven as well. United in Word and Sacrament, the Church of all times and all places is joined together into one body of Christ.

In Him, you are never alone, for He has promised to be with you to the close of the age—with you, and with me, and with all the faithful—wherever and whenever we gather around pulpit, font, and altar.

He stands by your side in all the trials of your life. He gives you the strength to withstand both tragedy and temptation. When all others have deserted you, and even when your own mind and body have left you, He will rescue you from the mouth of that hungry lion, the devil, who seeks your soul and your eternal destruction.

Fight the good fight, then. Finish your race. Keep the faith that God has given you. Along the way and throughout the battle, though, remember that you don’t go about it alone. Your crucified and risen Lord is with you and within you, every step—Christ echoing in your ears, Christ splashed upon your skin, Christ placed on your tongue, Christ poured over your parched, desert-island lips.

Christ alone is with you, but Christ is never alone. Through the words of the prophets, apostles, and evangelists—and especially this day through the words of St. Luke—you have been made one with Christ and with all those who will share with you the safety of His heavenly kingdom.

To Him be the glory, forever and ever. Amen.